Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.

I don't own the song "Songbird".

I don't own Alice in Wonderland.

I don't own "RENT" or any of the songs.

I don't anything but the plot, although somebody else has almost done this before anyway.

Author's Note: Review, please! I love constructive criticism

For anybody that wants to know, the final lyric is from the song "I'll Cover You" from RENT.

I also apologise in advance for any spelling/grammatical errors. I used a spell check, but I really struggle to read over my own work. I should really see about getting a BETA :/

(Have you ever noticed that that sort of phrase makes a BETA sound like some kind of pet? :p)

Summary: "You're my Songbird, you know that San? And Songbirds keep singing, remember? So you can't give up on me. You've got to wake up, so you can sing again."
There was an accident. And now Brittany's only focus is to wake Santana up so that they can be together again.

Reassemble Me

It seems darker than usual, he thinks. Puck is being sensible for once; they went to a party and, as driver, he stood by his decision not to drink. So now, behind the wheel, Puck is actually sober. The two girls in the back seat, however, are a completely different matter.

Puck can't help but find their antics mildly amusing as his eyes flick up to the mirror to watch Santana and Brittany play around like young children. Santana's giggles are light, girlish; completely void of any strain she'd suffered over the last couple of weeks since that commercial.

Brittany jabs Santana playfully in the ribs and the Latina lets out a scandalized screech. Neither of the girls are buckled in, and Santana pounces onto Brittany to furiously tickle the blonde's sides. Brittany wriggles desperately, but is undoubtedly trapped beneath the smaller girl as she lets out a peal of laughter.

Puck's eyes flick to the mirror again and a smile spreads across his face as he watches Santana, relaxed and happy for the first time he's seen in far too long. He continues to watch as the girls stop, their breathing still heavy from the laughter, and Santana leans down to press the softest kiss to Brittany's lips.

He doesn't look up in time to even expect the impact.

Suddenly all Puck can hear was the violent shattering of glass; the car windows. And after that, the terrified screams of the girls in the backseat fills his ears as the vehicle is thrust sideways by the car they collided with. And, too quickly to comprehend, they are rolling down the side of a ravine. The car rolls onto its head, to its side, onto all four wheels and then back onto its side again.

Puck doesn't know how long they have been falling for. All he can register in his last few moments of clarity is that Brittany is the only one left screaming.

Brittany was the only one that was conscious when help finally arrived, but she was still trapped in the upside down vehicle. Even when they managed to clear an escape route, she refused to leave Santana. Eventually one of the men had to climb into the back of the car and physically remove the crying girl, trying fruitlessly to explain that they could only help her if she was out of the way.

It was still dark, but the flashing lights of the ambulance lit up the night in a bright blue. Brittany, shaking violently even after the paramedics had wrapped her in a blanket, became transfixed by the lights as they spun on the roof of the white and yellow van.

Puck had already been removed from the upturned car; unconscious, but breathing. The paramedics had tried to make Brittany go in the ambulance with Puck in order to get her back to the hospital as soon as possible, but Brittany's adamant refusal could not be argued with. She was waiting for Santana.

She heard sudden shouts from the paramedics and Brittany stood immediately, to watch them start to pull her girlfriend away from the wreckage. But all Brittany saw was the Latina's dark hair, matted with blood, before she blacked out.

When Brittany woke up, the first thing she noticed was the sting in her nose. The overpowering stench of cleaning chemicals burned as she inhaled and Brittany flinched, lifting a heavy hand to the ache in her head.

The second thing she became aware of was the wire protruding from her wrist.

Brittany's eyes flew open, and then immediately closed once more against the harsh light of the bulb above her head. Trying again, Brittany let her eyes open slowly as she tried to adjust to the light. When she could actually see, she frowned at her surroundings and attempted to pull herself into a sitting position.

She was in a bed, but not her own. And there was a machine that beeped incessantly beside her.

Finally, slowly, it clicked together; she was in a hospital.

At that moment, a nurse dressed in a blue uniform marched into the room, clipboard in hand. Only one thought remained in Brittany's mind, and as the nurse looked up at her she held her gaze strongly.

"Where's Santana?"

Everything about it felt wrong.

Brittany stepped into the room and felt her heart stutter as a cold shiver rushed over her. Inhaling sharply, she closed her eyes against the sight before her and turned her eyes away. All she could hear was the rhythmic beeping of the monitor and, as much as she wanted to block it out, Brittany held onto that noise with some desperation, letting it anchor her to reality. She counted the beeps as the beat of her heart fell into time.

Twenty three beeps later, Brittany finally opened her eyes again, although she had to divert her gaze from the reason she had entered the room in the first place. She found the white surrounding her was harsh, blinding. The walls were bare and the heavy, greying curtains hung closed over the only window.

Brittany shook her head and stepped over to pull them apart, taking a deep breath after she forced open the window. Then she turned off the light and let out a sigh in relief. The room still felt cold and wrong, but at least it didn't seem so harsh anymore; the weak sunlight streamed through the window from between the clouds and things felt a little more natural.

At last, Brittany forced her eyes to meet what she had come for, and immediately they began to prick with tears. She closed her eyes again, trying to convince herself that what she saw wasn't real. She pinched herself and pinched hard, but eventually she had no choice but to accept that this was more than a bad dream. Her eyes reopened and she shook her head in denial.

"No, San. No."

And then she broke down into sobs.

Stumbling over to the bed, Brittany let her watery eyes scan the battered body of her unconscious girlfriend. Most of her body was hidden by the thin, coarse blanket, but Brittany could see Santana's face and arms were covered in cuts and bruises. Her left hand was in a purple cast and both of her closed eyes were swollen and cloaked under dark bruises. The Latina's breaths were short and shallow as Brittany finally focussed her unsteady gaze on the slight rise and fall of her girlfriend's chest beneath the sheet. Sat in her uncomfortable plastic chair, Brittany fumbled for Santana's limp fingers with shaky hands.

"Santana, wake up." She demanded. There was no response. "I said wake up. You need to wake up." Still, Santana remained motionless. Lifting her fingers to her lips, Brittany pressed a gentle kiss to them. Breathing a steadying breath, Brittany tried again.

"Santana, the new series of 90210 is about to start and you're going to miss it if you don't wake up right now." There wasn't even a flicker of reaction.

Another shuddering sob shook through the blonde's body and she folded herself over to rest her head over her girlfriend's heart, listening as it beat perfectly in time with the monitor beside the bed.

"Santana, please. I need you to wake up. Wake up, now."

Brittany let her eyelids flutter closed as her tears fell onto the sheet. She didn't know what to say; she couldn't think. All she could do was grip Santana's hand in her own and use her free fingers to trace gentle patterns on the bruised skin of Santana's collarbone.

"I know you can hear me. That nurse said that coma patients sometimes remember conversations their friends and family had with them while they were sleeping, because they could hear them. She said sometimes they can't, but I know you can, because you always listen."

For a while, the only sounds in the room were the constant beeping of the monitor and the shallow breaths of the two girls. The sterile silence was horrible, and Brittany didn't want Santana to have to hear that.

"For you, there'll be no more crying..." As Brittany began to sing, her voice was raw and broken. The quiet sound barely penetrated the stillness of the room. She sniffed away her tears and focussed on the sound of Santana's heartbeat.

"And the Songbirds are singing like they know the score..." After a pause, Brittany lifted her head and wiped her eyes, wanting to be strong. She straightened her posture and hardened her face determinedly. She grasped Santana's healthy hand in both of hers and looked steadily at Santana's closed eyes.

"You're my Songbird, you know that San?" Brittany waited a beat for a response she knew wouldn't come, "and Songbirds keep singing, remember? So you can't give up on me. You've got to wake up, so you can sing again."

With that, Brittany stood from the chair to gently manoeuvre onto the bed beside Santana. Resting her head once more on the Latina's chest, Brittany closed her eyes and finally let her body relax.

"I'll let you sleep for now, because I'm tired too, but you need to wake up soon; okay? I need you back with me, San." As her breathing slowed, Brittany curled tighter into Santana's unresponsive body and let a final lyric pass her lips.

"And I love you, I love you, I love you like never before."

"I've brought your favourite book." Brittany smiled at Santana's form as she pushed open the door. "Well, I think it's your favourite book. It's my favourite book and you always used to read it to me when I asked you, so I guess I just assumed it was your favourite too." Brittany stopped where she stood frowned. "Maybe I should take it back and get you a magazine or something."

Santana, as usual, didn't answer. This didn't surprise Brittany anymore; it had been four weeks since the accident and the Latina hadn't even opened her eyes since there. But the scans said she was improving, that her brain activity was increasing, so Brittany refused to lose hope.

Shaking her head, the blonde looked down at the cover of Alice in Wonderland. She pondered for a moment before shrugging, letting a smile break onto her face once more. Almost skipping over to the soft chair that had eventually replaced the plastic one, Brittany sat down and arranged her legs beneath her comfortably.

"You must like it, or you would have never have read it to me so many times." Then she opened the book to the first chapter. Before she started reading aloud to her unconscious girlfriend, Brittany reached over to take her hand, squeezing her fingers gently in the same way she did every time she entered the room.

"Chapter 1; Down the Rabbit Hole. 'Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank and of having nothing to do: once or twice she –" And then Brittany stopped very abruptly, shocked.

Staring down at her hand, entwined with Santana's, Brittany squeezed once more and waited with baited breath. And it took a few moments, but the second time Brittany was certain she hadn't just been imagining things.

Santana had squeezed back.

The first time Santana opened her eyes, Brittany almost cried. And the first time she managed to form coherent words, she had cheered with joy. And the first time Santana took shaky steps without the help of her frame, Brittany had swooped in and spun the laughing Latina around in a circle.

It was like watching a child experience life for the first time. Santana looked so thrilled to be able to do things nobody else thought twice about. It was beautiful.

On the day Santana was finally allowed home, the first thing she did was phone Puck to scream at him down the phone for taking his eyes off the road. And then she burst into tears and kept repeating how glad she was that he was okay. And then she told him it was all fine, that she forgave him because everyone was fine now.

It was rather interesting for Brittany to listen to.

After she was done on the phone, Santana came to curl up with her blonde on the sofa. Her eyes closed as she buried her head into her girlfriend's shoulder and she let out a sigh of relief.

"It's so good to be home."

Brittany was certain that she would never tire of hearing Santana's voice. It was the most perfect sound to exist on earth. She wished everybody could hear Santana's voice, but at the same time she was glad that they couldn't because it meant Santana was all hers. But Brittany decided not to tell her any of this because she was sure it would make even less sense out loud than it did in her head, so she just kept her mouth shut.

"Thank you, Britt-Britt."

For a moment, Brittany was thoroughly confused. Had she just said everything she meant to keep quiet? She wrinkled her nose in annoyance at her own lack of self-control, but Santana's beautiful voice stopped her before she could say anything back.

"You helped me so much back there. I don't know if I would have even woken up if I didn't have you encouraging me every step of the way." Then Santana pulled back to meet Brittany's gaze with watery eyes. "You fixed me, Britt-Britt. You put me back together. And I will never be able to repay you for that."

A few tears fell from Brittany's own eyes as she bent to press a gentle kiss to Santana's lips. Then she sang softly, lightly;

"Just pay me back with one thousand kisses."

And Santana laughed, and Brittany smiled, realising that this was actually the very most perfect sound.